The Seventh Evening
by Mystic Rains
Summary: LME is more than just an entertainment business. It does charity work for the Japanese community as well, rich in culture and tradition. Lory assigns his favorite LoveMe members to help in various ways, full of passion, beauty, and love of course.
1. Try Your Luck

Carrying the tray as if it were the most valuable of treasures, Sebastian set the possession in front of the girls with all the skills of a butler trained since birth. The three LoveMe employees peered down hard at the various makeshift envelopes, eyes narrowed in suspicion. They all grasped at their hot pink overalls, bunching the material in their clenched fists. Each was afraid to make the first move. Being called into the President's office never boded well, especially when Takarada smiled so widely.

On a golden platter lay three perfectly folded, crisp new pieces of rice paper. Delicately written on each were four words, a beautiful example of old-fashioned calligraphy. The last word on each were emphasized in a different, beautiful way. The black ink shimmered as if the ink was still wet.

Mission Full Of _Love_

Mission Full Of Beauty

Mission Full Of **Passion**

"No need to be shy mademoiselles!" The president clapped his glee then motioned his gloved hand across the small table. He smiled like the king over his reluctant noble subjects. His velvet red robes, lined with royal purple, crowned staff and high heeled boots were as garish as his usual ensembles. What _really_ threw them off today was his full mane of curly, black, French king hair. "I promise you all of them are as equally important, as equally good for your careers, and best of all they're for a good cause!"

Amamiya Chiori and Mogami Kyoko stared at the currently bravest LoveMe girl, Kotonami Kanae. The tall beauty reached her hand out to the table, but hesitated while the three others stared hard, watching her selection. Her delicate fingers shook, as it brushed against the envelope entitled "Mission Full Of Love**.**"

"Oooh…." Lory said captivated, leaning in closer to watch her arm, beaming at her potential selection. "Remember that you cannot trade, or even let your friends know what your mission is."

"…Ah Mo! Forget it!" Kanae shouted. In her haste, she scooped up the "Mission Full Of Beauty" envelope into a closed fist, and ran to the corner of the room to unfold the paper in haste. She had learned pulling off a bandage was better if done quickly; it was the same with Lory's mandatory LoveMe tasks.

The seconds hung in the air like the haze of a late summer's heat.

Her disparaging wail struck deep into bones, as Kanae fell to her knees, reading the parchment three, ten, thirty times with her speed reading abilities. Of course she was the actress who could memorize an entire TV episode script in a few seconds, but humans always tend to reread the things they didn't want to believe.

Kanae turned to the president, who was smiling widely, as if the actress had ran to him and hugged him in glee, rather than screamed out in frustration and terror.

"You want me to let them do WHAT to me? This can't be legal! I won't let them touch me!" Kanae cried out, ripping the paper into a million petal pieces. "Never never never never NEVER!" The floating kindle lit under her fury.

"**What**?" "_Touch you?_" The other two girls cried out in disbelief.

"Ah ah ah Kotonami-san…" President Lory tsk'ed at her, clicking his tongue. "You mustn't it give away or I'll have to assign you more."

In dread, the shorter girls both turned to the golden platter. The two differentiating words flashed before their eyes. Although they were two different people, the same thought ran through both of their minds.

Love vs. Passion. _Love_? _Passion_? If simply beauty involved _touching_, who knew what the president's definition of _passion_ would be? And worse of all, the president's idea of _love_ could be anything. An over-the-top anything. _Love_ would be more than touching, it would be more than just a few pink hearts trumpets and red rose petals, it would be passion, beauty, love and…

Both girls dived towards the Passion envelope, immediately knowing the lesser of two evils. Chiori was able to grab it first, for the simple fact that she was sitting closer to the mission statement. She pulled the mission out from underneath Kyoko's frozen marble hand.

"I'm sorry Kyoko…" Chiori murmured, embarrassed at leaving her friend and co-worker to her fate. She turned away from the statue girl, stiff over the table as if chiseled that way. The newest LoveMe girl exited the room at a drag, walking like a wounded soldier leaving the dead behind.

Sadly, in (Lory's Majestic) Entertainment, it was every man for themselves; especially in terms of saving their pride.

"Don't worry Mogami-san!" Lory chuckled, as the red-head actress started dissolving into dust. "You will love your role. I promise! After all, it's LOVE!"

* * *

"And that's why I'm here, Yashiro-san." Kyoko finished miserably, holding the cool green tea can her senpai's manager had offered.

"Can't you tell me the mission, Kyoko-chan?" Yashiro asked lightly, as the apple of Ren's eye let out a deep sigh. She sat with her head between her legs in the mostly empty hall, on same the bench where she had found Yashiro and Director Ogata speaking almost a year ago. Yashiro tried to pat her on the back, but it was as hard as stone. "Maybe I can help? Or Ren? He's with the President right now as well."

"I can't tell anyone." Kyoko murmured dejectedly, more to herself than to her audience. "The only thing I can do is tell you is that I'm going to be a princess tonight…and I hope for rain." She dragged herself to her feet, and shuffled away like a sleep deprived zombie.

"Huh?" Yashiro tilted his head, as she made her mysterious departure.

As soon as the enigmatic girl turned the corner, stepping past the glass doors and out of sight, Yashiro's charge arrived. Instead of the usual look of annoyance or dejection however, Ren's face was the picture perfect model for the word _confusion_. It didn't bode well for Yashiro, who was already bewildered as it was.

"What is it Ren? Did Takarada-san tell you why he had me clear your schedule today?"

In Ren's hand was a folded piece of parchment paper. Yashiro realized immediately that it matched the type of print Kyoko had been holding just moments ago. Gears in the manager's mind went from confusion, to a mild suspicion. Lory had had Yashiro report to him on Ren's love life after the Katsuki audition's success, and had smiled when Yashiro mentioned his suspicions on Ren's emotions for his kohai.

Seeing his attention on the paper, Ren handed the sheet to Yashiro. "It's directions to meet Jerry Woods tonight in Fussa."

"In Fussa? That's not too far from downtown." Yashiro asked in surprise, taking the sheet. "But there's a festival tonight. It'll be swamped. Surely he doesn't want you there today. It'd be a mess!"

"The president simply handed me this, and told me to act my heart out for charity." The handsome actor shrugged. "It just tells me where to meet her, when, and to act like a person named Hikoboshi, but without words." Ren stated simply, reiterating in words what his manager read over. "Only, I don't think I've worked with a Hikoboshi before. Who is Hikoboshi?"

Trying not to break out in an incriminating smile, Yashiro pulled the paper up to his face in order to not give anything away. If Ren saw his "fangirl" smile, the whole situation would be washed away and this chance of a lifetime would be blown. Yashiro took deep breaths to steady himself, and to mentally praise his president. After all that hard work, he would be Ren and Kyoko's bridge of magpies.

"It'd be better if you went undercover, and we head to the festival now. It's only a few hours until sunset, and I think it would be easier to explain it to you if you could see everything. I'll explain the story along the way."

* * *

**I've been sitting on this story for a while; in fact having a good bit written out. However I wanted to flesh out part two, but I've been procrastinating. I thought putting part one up would force me to do part two. This is a summer story, although a short one, so I want it all up before September. Thank Runadaemon, she convinced me to post this. **


	2. Stage Fright

**Runadaemon pseudo-beta read this for me. She made me correct my own mistakes! Can you believe the nerve of her? LOL. I hate it when she's right.  
**

* * *

Baseball cap positioned neatly over his face, lightly crouching over to disguise his height, the incognito actor and his manager walked among the throng of festival goers. Koto music echoed over the buzz of the crowd, enhanced with the scents and sights of the festival stands.

"You should eat something. You haven't even had lunch yet Ren." The manager interjected over the chatter of the crowd, trying to catch the attention of his charge. "How about some grilled corn? That should be light enough."

"I'm not hungry." The actor said shortly, strolling forward.

"You still have to eat something Ren." Yashiro replied back sternly. "If you don't, I'll tell Kyoko that you're not taking care of yourself." ("As usual" Yukihiro added in his mind, though not angrily. Telling Kyoko that Ren was slacking off in the treatment of his own body served well into getting them some time together.)

Tsuruga paused in mid-step at the thought, catching Yashiro by surprise.

"I know I should eat, but I can't eat. I don't think… I don't think my stomach could handle it."

"What do you mean? You're not sick, are you?" Yashiro said with a dose of despair. He took a few steps ahead and looked up at the actor's face in concern. If Ren was genuinely ill, he would have to contact Lory and find someone to replace Ren at the last minute.

Ren was not the type of actor to complain about poor health; if it was illness vs. acting, acting always won. It would have to be something serious for Ren to admit he wasn't feeling well. Something like stomach cancer, or a killer bee sting. He would have to call Lory. Kyoko would have to act on stage, in love with a complete stranger.

Reaching for a glove in his pocket so that he could pick up his phone safely, Tsuruga continued.

"I…" Ren paused, swallowing hard. It was definitely something new to his manager, to see the actor so nervous. "…I don't like acting on stage."

Yashiro's jaw dropped. His eyes went as wide as plates. He stood there, dumbstruck.

The number one actor of Japan, admitting he had stage fright? His movies and images were seen by millions of people, all over Asia, and here Tsuruga Ren was getting butterflies over a few hundred audience members, at most?

Puffed cheeks jutted out from underneath his glasses. Yashiro clenched his mouth with both hands. His shoulders begun to shake, and his eyes filled with tears, as he held back his torrent of laughter at the absurd situation.

Ren began walking again, not bothered by his manager's apparent hysteria. As good of a manager Yashiro was, only actors could really know the difference between acting for the camera and acting for the audience. He would think the whole situation absurd too if he were in his supervisor's shoes.

"Acting on stage is different Yashiro." Ren spoke rationally, not reacting to his manager's laughter. "There are no cuts. No NGs. Any error is apparent to everyone, immediately; with no ability to take it back. You have to fight for your audience's attention every moment or you've lost the whole show."

The thought lightly sobered up Yashiro, enough so that he stuttered a bit in response. He moved in closer to Ren, in order to make sure he wasn't heard. "Bu-but..you're Tsuruga Ren! The one shot king! The co-star killer! You've done many things in one take before. This can't be much different."

"This is different." Ren stated firmly. "The president gave me this role to test me again. He wants me to either pass his next test, or fail in public."

"What do you mean?" Yashiro whimpered.

"You said this story is about the love between a princess and a cow shepherd. It took me five days to get Katsuki's expression of caring right without an NG. Now I need to convince an entire audience, in one public take, that I'm a character madly in love from a story I've never heard of, with an actress I've never met."

The way he described the dilemma deflated Yashiro's amused cheeks like a pin puncturing a balloon. Yashiro was sure Ren was in love with Kyoko, but hadn't his charge been dense showing it in the past? What if he thought love was cornering her to the edge of the stage, and making Kyoko apologetically bow in her typical frenzy? Or what if he came on strong, and instead of swooning, Kyoko ran off the stage screaming? No audience member would accept that, and the press would hop all over it. The relationship would take three steps back, rather than a baby step forward.

"Yashiro-san! Ren-san! There you are!" Age defying make up artist Jerry Woods, swooped in on the two handsome men, discussing their fate near the side of the stage. Climbing down the steps, the tiny woman grabbed the large arm of Ren, and started listing the preparation schedule.

"We don't have much time. First, make up. I have the play's transcript you can read over. Then Honey will show you the stage floor and the props you can use if you want to."

Jerry expertly swiveled him up the stairs without another word, leaving the manager to reflect by himself at the dome's edge.

Dusk fell in earnest and the sky darkened. The audience area slowly filled with excited festival goers. The vibrant lanterns and outdoor lights became the main form of light. Couples held hands as they sat in the grass, small children perched on their parents' shoulders, and people crowded in to get a better view of the platform, where the story would take place.

Unlike his charge, Yashiro's stomach _did _require food every once and a while. He hadn't attended a festival since he started working at LME, and the atmosphere reminded him of when he visited summer festivals with his friends.

Walking around the festival alone, he had a few fried octopus sticks, following it with a fresh choco-banana. Being out without Ren felt strange, but it really wasn't all that bad to be without his charge every once and a while. He had seen some high school girls looking at him appreciatively. Women never really paid attention to him when he was with Ren, which was expected. He couldn't be a good manager if he got jealous, but it was nice to get some attention on his own. His reply smile had sent the girls running and giggling, which picked up his mood.

Returning to the stage, throwing the banana stick in the trash, he had almost taken a step onto the backstage steps before he spotted two familiar faces in the crowd. In show business you need to have a good memory, especially for faces. The firm looking landlord, and his pleasantly, slightly plump wife stood near the front of the stage, waiting with the rest for the beginning of the show. Their presence surprised him, although he wasn't sure why. He went over to wish them hello.

"Hello Yashiro-san, pleasure to see you here." The okami said perkily. Her husband simply twitched his head down, in almost an invisible greeting. "Are you working, or are you here to see Kyoko as well?"

"Both actually," Yashiro smiled, and pushed his glasses up into place. "Ren is performing alongside Kyoko tonight."

"That's lovely!" The landlord's wife exclaimed. She clapped her hands, slightly muffled by her yukata's long pink sleeves. Maybe it was his imagination, but Yashiro was pretty sure the landlord's lips flicked downward. "They surely make a wonderful couple, don't you think?"

"I have to agree. I am excited to see them work together again." Yashiro agreed, happy to hear that there was another person who believed that the two actors would make an excellent couple.

"Too old." The third voice interjected, disapproval evident in just two syllables. Apparently he had not just imagined the tashio's lips moving.

His wife laughed, and patted her husband's arm. "Don't listen to him Yashiro-san. The two of us are actually nine years apart. He is simply protective of Kyoko."

"Ren is only four years older than Kyoko. I promise I would not let him near Kyoko if I felt that he wouldn't be anything but a gentleman to her." Yashiro smiled sociably, and nodded to them both. Of course he was lying a bit. He _had _seen Ren bully Kyoko early in their relationship, but that was more than a year ago. Now Ren was _too_ gentlemanly with Kyoko in Yashiro's opinion. "She is very important to LME, to our employees, and to me as well. She is a very charming girl."

The chef's eyes narrowed a bit, and he looked down at the manager coolly. "You are both too old."

"Honey!" His wife cried.

The rest of the conversation dropped out, as the surrounding lights began to dim.


	3. Wishes

**No need to read the history of the festival. I've tried to embed the festival story into this fanficton. Feel free to be confused as you read on. Although if you do look for the festival's history before I get to it, it shouldn't ruin the story. You'll just be like Yashiro – knowing the torture before it happens.

* * *

**

It was almost a normal Japanese festival. There were plenty of typical food stands: chocolate bananas, fried octopus balls, mochi, grilled corn on the cob. The usual stand games: goldfish catching, summer ball lotteries, ring toss. Multiple lit lanterns hung from floated strings, making the street a mass of fluttering, glowing streamers in the setting sky. It was only the large impromptu stage that marked the whole event LME's doing, foolishly grand and extravagant even thought it would only be needed for one night. It would be impossible to miss the designated meeting place.

The clip clop of her wooden geta did nothing to distract Kyoko from her mission, weaving her way through the festival's crowd. Her moves were easy and fluid in the old-fashioned garb, despite its decreasing use in western Tokyo. It had taken her all day to dig out her traditional Kyoto clothes, still beautiful after months of being buried beneath her belongings. Although she hated the past Kyoko for her nativity and intense desire to please, she held this particular garb in reverence.

The ruby red colour of the kimono held the classic pattern of sakura petals etched in orange, the inspiration for her hair colour. The sash was also a rich gold, as well as the woven ribbon at the end of her French braids.

The Fuwas had given her several beautiful kimonos to wear while she worked at the inn. Even their son's memory could not detract from her appreciative feelings, though it took a while to shake off her demons.

* * *

"What's wrong Kyoko-chan?" The Daruyama matron cried out in shock, watching their tenant slide through the door. A heavy purple fog of despair crept into the restaurant, making the current lunch diners cower in their seats.

The actress dragged slowly through the entryway, her feet shuffling towards the entrance to the upstairs living quarters. She paused at the foot of the stairs, turning her head forlornly.

"I'm acting…in the Tanabata festival tonight…"

"Oh Kyoko-chan! That's wonderful!" The matron cried happily, clapping her hands once in delight. "You'll make a wonderful Orihime!"

The excitement in her landlord's voice helped disperse some of Kyoko's gloomy haze; some of it by surprise. Kyoko hadn't said what part she would be playing. Then again, there was really only one female part in the story of Tanabata. The matron continued to speak, with little pause.

"We weren't sure on whether we should close up tonight, but if you're going to be performing, we will definitely come."

The shadow dispersed fully, Kyoko pulled her head up and crossed her hands with fervor, politely declining. "Oh no! Don't do that! I'm sure it will be nothing special."

"Nonsense! I would love to see you act in person Kyoko-chan!"

"It is a big night for tourists. You shouldn't close the shop on my sake. The restaurant would be very busy."

"We were thinking about closing anyway, Kyoko dear."

A gruff voice cut over the woman's conversation. The knife continued to cut the shiitake mushrooms dutifully, but the chef's words were clear, crisp, and as concise as his blade. It ended their argument with a simple sentence

"Tonight we will be there to see you."

Kyoko's heart rose in her chest as she looked at the Daruyama patron. He had not raised his eyes to look at her, but after living at the Daruyama for more than a year, she could tell the patron's emotions without looking into his eyes.

They were coming. Not for the festival, but for _her_. To see her do something she loved, like a parent would.

A few seconds passed as Kyoko looked from the landlord to his wife. Her eyes became glossy, lightly shiny with unshed tears. She bowed in appreciation. "Hai! Thank you!"

Unwrapping the apron from her wide frame, both women climbed the stairs to get ready. The chef smiled only briefly, before returning to his stunned regulars.

* * *

The character hadn't been too hard to create in Kyoko's mind. In fact, Orihime was more of a return to a favourite past character than a creation of an new one. The _old_ Kyoko had loved Orihime. A weaving princess was a princess that Kyoko could relate to. She was what Kyoko aspired to be like. To work hard for her family; who loved her as much as she loved them. To do whatever was necessary to be with her one true love. And to be a real princess.

There were large festivals in Kyoto, where young girls would go around dressing up as the weaving princess; officially competing to be crowned as the sky princess that night. Even young, Kyoko knew that she would never be pretty or popular enough to be crowned with something so special. In fact, she was usually working hard at the Fuwa Inn that night, even if she had wanted to compete. Still, as she served, she would always pretend to be a waitress Orihime. The Fuwas would let her wear her most beautiful of robes, and Kyoko sang the theme of the Tanabata festival under her breath as she served.

_Sasa no ha sara-sara_ / _The bamboo leaves rustle_

_Nokiba ni yureru / Shaking away in the eaves;_

_Ohoshi-sama kira-kira / The stars twinkle_

_Kingin sunago / Gold and silver grains of sand._

Hadn't she basked in the sight of floating, burning pieces of wish filled papers (with all of the festival goers) by the river? Watching her own wish get lit, floating down the water, as she called upon Orihime. She wished that Sho-chan and her could remain close, and not be pulled apart by love and fate as the deity she prayed to had been.

Kyoko grinded her teeth at the thought. NOW that she was smart enough, Kyoko would never set a silly piece of paper on fire. _She_ would go straight to the source and burn _him_, and make her own dreams come true. Dreams that had _nothing_ to do with _love_.

_Tied to a floating paper boat, demon Sho bats around his forked tail, wrestling to get himself free from the ropes. Kyoko ghosts chant demonically around the boat, as the head spirit lights the ceremonial match. They all have identical fanged smiles, as the demon Sho screams, watching them edge near the flammable vessel, match head aglow._

"Nooo, you can't write your wishes on me! You write it on the paper! Ah mo! Go home! Shoo you stupid kids! _**Ahhhh**_!"

That voice. That frustrated cry made Kyoko's wooden geta sandals stop in mid-step. The fantasy vanished.

"_Moko-san_?"

Kyoko looked around frantically in surprise, as she ran towards the voice, away from the back entrance of the public stage. Her cherry yukata swished, as the young actress went to run towards the commotion.

"Moko-san! I'm coming!"

_What if President Takarada had her locked in a cage? To be stared at for her beauty? What if someone tries to touch her?_

"Oh no you don't!" A voice cried, grabbing Kyoko by the wrist with surprising strength. Catching the actress off-guard, the foreign hand pulled the teenager behind the stage, and out of sight.

Once through the backstage door, Kyoko gasped as she turned around to see the makeup witch, Jerry Woods, drag her through the mess. All around the backstage were elaborate backgrounds, various highly technical electrical equipment, and panicking stage hands. Eventually they ended up in one of the tiny private dressing rooms, barely large enough to house its expansive costume as well as all of Jerry's "wands" as Kyoko called them – her makeup tools.

"We only have an hour left to get ready, and I still need to get you dressed and put your make up on."

Tugging off the sash with one expert pull, Jerry undressed Kyoko as if she were a rag doll.

"Hikoboshi is already made up and getting on stage."

The witch's hands and tools of the trade were everywhere, as the young actress got sucked into the experience of getting her clothing makeup done by a professional.

"I know Darling made you jump into this, but we have faith in you!"

Even in the hectic pace, It was one of the treats she loved no matter what while being an actress. In fact, the normalness of this work environment was a reminder of her job. It calmed Kyoko enough to remember why she was there.

"Make him fall in love you Kyoko-chan!"

All she had to do was get into the mind of Orihime, and act out as the announcer read the story. She could do it. Hopefully whomever Hikoboshi was, could do it too.


	4. Pinpricks

**Oni – demon**

**Surprised? I know I am. **Leavesfallingup **reminded me about this story, and I wanted to try and come back to it. At least for a small update. I forgot how much of this I had done. I didn't like where I was going with it, so I rewrote the second half. I think I'm comfortable enough to work with this premise. It's a bit more serious, but there's a better atmosphere for romance. My muse is so weird.**

**As usual, thanks Runa!**

**

* * *

**

A small rap at the door made Ren open his eyes, breaking his concentration as the brush ran over his cheeks. "Excuse me, Wood-san? Is the herder ready?" A deep masculine voice came through the crack in the open door. "I was asked by the Tentei to give Hikoboshi a review of the stage before show time."

"Good timing Magpie-san. Hikoboshi's ready." Pulling the large blush brush away from the actor's face, Jerry smiled brightly as she looked at her favorite LME actor. She stopped standing on her tip-toes, something she always had to do with Ren, no matter the chair's height. "Now I just have to go and find Darling. Ta ta Ren-chan! – I mean Hikoboshi-san."

Taking her leave, the door widened to allow Jerry to pass the stage hand, tall, broad, and _familiar_. Although his name was almost never spoken, the permanent human fixture by the president was unmistakable in his stripped black & white turtleneck, black pants, and small black ponytail. The only thing that literally stuck out was his nose – now a beak. Among the time Ren had spent working with Lory, Sebastian almost never spoke. Yashiro had asked him if the butler was mute.

"Please follow me, Hikoboshi-san."

Unsteadily getting to his feet, Ren clopped along in his foreign geta sandals, following behind the ever-stoic Sebastian as he gave him a broad tour of the backstage and its working.

"This is where the Tentei will appear. His voice will be magnified on stage, so do not jump when his voice first appears."

Even though the butler kept his sentences straight to the point, Ren had never heard the butler speak more than two sentences before. 'Please wait' and 'Follow me please' were the only four words that brushed past his lips more than once.

"Orihime will be swept up at the separation, so please be careful during that scene."

His facial expression never changed as he spoke, and his tone was always flat. It was the work of a deadpan butler, and he pulled it off as if a veteran. Ren felt more and more unsure about the entire situation. The day had grown stranger and stranger as it went on, throwing the actor in situations he could have never predicted, even in his subconscious.

"The cows are animated. They can move their heads, and slide up and down. It will all be handled by controllers underneath the stage and above the rafters, so they should not get in your way. If you interact with them, they will interact with you."

Finally breaking, Ren asked what was on his mind. "What is the president planning? Who will be playing the princess? What is he expecting of tonight?"

The server paused, but the pause was so brief that Ren knew he was expecting to hear those questions. The responses came out so smoothly it was as if the butler was reading from a well-known scene's script; one reciting, and the other acting spontaneous. "The President plans for the citizens of Tokyo to have a good night. We were instructed by the Tentei to only refer to his daughter as Orihime-sama. Orihime-sama is only Orihime-sama tonight. And you can only be Hikoboshi."

Finally cracking the small façade, Sebastian turned to look at the familiar actor. "Are you nervous, Tsuruga-san?"

Ren eyes widened a little in surprise; the sudden humanity in Sebastian's character was very unlike him. Ren responded by smiling in handsome embarrassment, looking away as his cheeks flushed. "A little. This is not a situation I'm used to."

"I was told to leave you with two pieces of advice by the Tentei & The President."

"Yes?" Ren asked, unsure.

"Make my daughter happy, or I shall release a wrath so deep that the very depths of Hell will become jealous...And do not let yourself get in the way of true love."

* * *

Kyoko watched the administrator in interest, as the members behind the curtain scurried around her. "Places people! We're starting in one minute!" The stage director cried out, running around the back. He carried a walkie-talkie and barked orders through it, as well as in person, as time ticked down. It was dimly lit behind the heavy stage curtain, and her eyes had taken a while to adjust to the darkness. Despite the difficulty seeing, everyone was able to avoid stepping on the voluptuous costume Jerry magically assembled, which trailed far behind her.

The backstage was much livelier than an acting set, which was usually pretty orderly and calm before filming started. Everything would already be placed, and people were only making touch ups to the actors, or polishing their equipment to assure the best take. She had always thought of acting in the filmed sense, but acting on stage, in front of real people, Kyoko's resolution firmed.

She would not let down her fellow Japanese citizens, especially the Tashio and his wife, who had forgone their potential busy night to watch their tenant's work. She would act her part and fall in love. She would banish her spirits for tonight. Take down the emotional barricades that kept the idiot's memory away from her. There were too many people depending on her tonight to let that old wound re-open.

_~Mama! Mama! Don't Let Us Go!~ _The demons clung onto her very shoulders, crying with caution. ~_He's always here! He wants to hurt you! We just want to protect you Mama!~_

Kyoko picked the set from her shoulder, and kissed them appreciatively. "I promise I'll stay strong without you. It's just for a night."

_~Mama! Mama! Don't do it! Please! DON'T LET US GO!~_

As soon as the spirits dissipated, another one appeared, grinning evilly as he perched on her shoulder. Kyoko's hand batted him away, but the clever miniature devil simple batted his bat-like wings, and floated to her other shoulder.

"**What are you doing? A plain girl shouldn't be in such nice clothing. It doesn't fit you."**

"Shut up Sho-oni."

"**It's not my fault you're plain and boring."**

While people ran around behind her on stage, the actual performance area was pretty empty. There was only one man on it, fiddling around in the dark with the props on stage. She couldn't make out much about him: only the fact he had long legs, a strong slim frame, and was wearing a dark colored yukata.

It had to be Hikoboshi, the actor she would be relying on and acting with. Kyoko wondered if she should introduce herself before the play started. He hadn't come by to introduce himself earlier and she had never acted with a person without being formally introduced to them first. She wondered if she had time.

"**How could you not find out who you were acting with? You're plain and unprofessional. You were better as a maid."**

Clutching at her chest, the demon smiled as his words turned into a sharp needle and jabbed at her unprotected heart. Kyoko gritted her teeth before turning it into a mocking smile, as if nothing had happened. "I had to get into costume. What do you know Sho-baka-oni?"

"**I know more than a talentless, plain maid pretending to be an actress."**

A small red bead blossomed from the puncture, as the needle retracted and stabbed again. This time Kyoko instinctively clutched at her chest, which made the demon flap his wings and laugh with glee.

"Thirty seconds! Orihime! We need you out in place!"

Emerging from the opposite side of the stage as the lights dimmed, casting the stage further in shadow, Kyoko carefully walked into place. She could see the image of the man's head look towards her, but all the details were shrouded in darkness.

"Twenty seconds!" The stage manager shouted.

She walked to Orihime's weaving station, surrounded in cashmere and silks that looked too expensive to see the light of day, much less the stage floor of an outside theatre. Hikoboshi moved to his set of prop cows on the other side, twinkling like the star cattle they were supposed to suggest.

She sat on the cold floor, and took a deep breath in the darkness. Her hands somehow glowed in the faint light, perhaps a magical quality Jerry had instilled into her wand kit.

It wasn't just make up. It was everything. Acting in general was a magical world. A fantasy castle. A world she could live in. She just had to get there.

"**You still believe in magic and witches? How pathetic."**

A third pinhole found its way through her defenses, allowing another red dot to form over her heart. The three spots were like the droplets of condensation along a cold glass.

Jumping over the castle gate, she could see the princess mannequin among the mental rose garden, decked in jewels and lace and everything the old Kyoko could have ever wanted.

_It's not pathetic. I'm Princess Orihime._ _I am a princess and I am about to meet my prince._

"**Stupid. There's no prince in the entire universe who would settle for a princess like you."**

The new dots were larger in size, pricking in sets of two now. Instead of forming small spherical circles, the spots allowed a small steady stream to spill.

Rose fragrance ticked her every sense as the impoverished girl made her way into the maze's arched blooming entrance. Her potato sack dress held many discolored patches, and her feet were covered in nothing more than extra burlap and string. Orange hair laid long on her back, knotted and twisted in an uncombed mess. It would be the ultimate metamorphosis - a useless pawn to a mighty queen, if she could get to the dress before it all collapsed.

_I'm taking part of the old Kyoko back. I need to believe in love._

"**Do you want to be hurt again? You really **_**are **_**just a silly love obsessed girl."**

Refusing to move, Kyoko focused harder on the task at hand. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes, and turned towards the male figure on the other side of the stage.

Time began beating around her like a clock, as she ran from one dead end to another. The connection from heart to mind was instinctual, one knowing when the other was in danger. Somehow the dress's presence was known, but it didn't seem to get much closer.

_I can fall in love. I will fall in love._

"**No one knows you better than I do. I could never love you. Why would anyone else?"**

Small cracks began to connect one puncture to another, demanding her attention as the ache intensified. Once frozen and buried, things quickly began to thaw and spill. The liquid began to pour more freely, as the memories of things suppressed began to hit against the crystal heart's jail.

Biting her lip in distraction, Kyoko shielded her face and ran straight through the thorny hedges. The sharp points scratched at her skin and ripped her patched up peasant's dress, but the maze gave way as she fell through the last barrier and to the feet of the magnificent ball gown. An almighty shield.

_I am not Kyoko. I am Princess Orihime. I AM THE PRINCESS ORIHIME._

The stage curtains began to rise, and a hush fell over the audience.

"The story of Tanabata."


	5. Somebody That I Used To Know

An smoky mist began to pour from the ceiling and erupt from the floor, meeting together like an extraterrestrial storm cloud. Within the thick fog, it glittered and sparkled, allowing a discreet screen to separate the stage into two halves of the Milky Way. The lights flickered on the water droplets, making the crowd sigh in delight at its sparkling rainbow beauty.

The smooth rich tone was unmistakable to the few company members who had heard his voice before. Yashiro eyes perked as a dog would if hearing an invisible whistle. The velvet male voice silenced the audience members as if they were a single being, as his voice echoed over the hidden stage speakers.

Gradually the fog cleared on the right side of the stage, and the play began in earnest.

**"_Orihime, the Weaving Princess, sat along the bank of the Amanogawa Milky Way. With her delicate fingers, she worked her heavenly yarn into magnificent robes, fit only for the highest gods..."_**

The expansive sapphire blue yukata extended several feet past Orihime, as she hummed the sweet tune of the tanabata festival. The princess' long flowing black hair trailed behind her too, which contrasted perfectly with her smooth moon pale skin. Interwoven within the hair were small stared jewels, in a multitude of colors, that twinkled almost randomly. Her body waved back and forth to the song as she wove. Ruby red lips parted slightly as she sung. The stage lights were almost white, but with a tinge of aquamarine ripple effects, specked with sparkling silver stars, gave Orihime's look an ethereal glow of beauty. It started deep within her golden eyes, and washed over the spectators.

**"_Her father Tentei, the Sky King, loved the cloth that she wove. Because so, she worked very hard every day to weave more."_**

The screen behind the two actors flickered on. The head of Tenteiappeared, in front of a star dotted backdrop. He wore robes of magnificent silver silk which he obviously admired, and the polished silver crown reflected in his wavy black hair. The magnitude of the screen engulfed the actress in the screen's glow, but she was too distracted to look up at their president's face.

**"_However, Orihime was sad that because of her hard work, she would always be too busy to meet others. Despite all her daydreams: Playing with her children. Weaving for her husband, she thought she would never fall in love with anyone."_**

Falling into the pile of expensive silks, Orihime let a single tear fall from her golden eyes, down her milk cheek. It twinkled on her skin, and the lighting attendant cast a pale blue light focused on the princess. Its glean caught the reflection of the teardrop, allowing others to see the quiet pain she bore alone.

Yashiro admired Kyoko, as he always did when he got to watch her act. She always became her part, but on this evening, it felt different. It felt as if the part had melted and formed to wrap around her. She wasn't giving the story life. Her life was the story.

**"_Concerned about his daughter, Tentei arranged for her to meet Hikoboshi, who lived and worked on the other side of the Amanogawa."_**

The other side of the stage illuminated, bringing the audience's attention to Hikoboshi. He kneeled on one leg, petting the prop cows, which mechanically began to swing their heads and talk in their recorded beastly language. His yukata was simple, navy blue with black stripes, not nearly as expensive and exotic as the princess's, but the simplicity made him look strong, masculine, and striking. As he petted the cows, his muscular arm rippled and females in the audience squealed their approval.

He felt the harsh glare of the hot stage lamps on him as he stroked the mechanical metal bulls with one of his skillful. They shook in the way he use to, in the way he use to when he first started acting. Ren knew his hands were too jerky, much too nervous to be convincing to the keen critiquing eye. All he could think of was how the president was watching him…just like he did on the set of Dark Moon.

Hikoboshi was a master herdsman. A cosmic rancher would know and treat his cows like the gold they glittered with. Ren furiously tried to calm himself down, and let the story take hold of him.

"_Kuon, I can see that you're trying...maybe we should take a break. How about you take an early break and we'll reconvene?" _

_The shy blond actor nodded dejected, and leapt off the school stage. His sneakers squeaked as he landed, getting the glares of the sound team as they readjusted their mics. _

"_I told you he couldn't do it." A girl huffed off the side, pretending to whisper to her friend as Kuon passed. The small group of teen actresses agreed vocally, circling around their handsome teen leader. His deep laugh rose about the giggle of girls. "They'll have to take you now Beckett."_

"_Hey Kuon!" Beckett yelled, ignoring his lackey schoolmates. "What's with the stupid name? Were you named Kuon because you can't even copy the word Kuu correctly?"_

Before he knew it, another mechanical bull nudged him in the side, vying for attention. He knew it was suppose to be a sign of affection, but the shock of it caught him unbalanced. His teal green robes twisted around his wooden sandals. Like a clumsy young boy, he tumbled to the floor like a graceless sack.

_Kuon's ears burned under the mass of blond hair. He started to walk faster, but the small group followed him, snickering and laughing. Kuon pushed open the school doors hard, leaving the school auditorium, into the empty hallway. The small gang of understudies followed him, undeterred. _

"_I guess talent skips a generation in Japan." Beckett called after him, enjoying the chase. "Then again, how much competition can you have on such a small island anyways? His dad probably won by default."_

The rumble of the crowd's laughter made Ren's ears glow with embarrassment, seemingly magnified in the open air theater. He looked out on the crowd, unable to make out any familiar people. The shadows' cast on their faces made them seem more cruel. More haunting.

_The sneakers stopped abruptly. Whipping his hair back, the "Shut up! Shut up about my dad! You're just mad because your mom can't find wor-" _

_The sudden impact against his head blinded him._

_A unexpected flash of shimmery blue coated his sight, like a ripple of fabric being ripped away from his eyes. _

The smoke began to fade, and divider retract, allowing the whole stage to be seen as one coherent piece.

"_You do not insult your fellow actors Kuon. Take responsibility for your work. _

_The group of kids backed away, surprised at the older teenager. At his sudden appearance. At his actions. To hit a younger student, especially the child of such famous parents was already dangerous. But to hit an actor in the face was sacrilegious. They scattered back into the safety of the prestigious school theatre._

"_Rick…" His bright green eyes filled with pain, as he looked up at his mentor. _

"_I'm not going to coddle you."_

_The eyes were wide, bright, hazel. They seemed lighter than usual though. Brighter. Intense. Almost golden…_

Ren winced as the creamy white hand extended towards his face; stepping through the divide, and crossing the galaxy.

The mist of memory faded away as he felt the gentle eyes wash over his fallen figure. Her thin scarlet lips curved into a curious and embarrassed smile, leaning over him and helping him to his feet.

He almost didn't recognize her as she took a small stretch of fabric, and wiped his cheek. Ren wasn't even sure if anything was on it. But slowly, surely, Orihime brought her eyes to his. Catching Ren in a gaze he couldn't break.

Beneath the the jewels and the delicate yukata. Beneath her wig and all her acting guise, it was Kyoko. It was her. And she was staring at him, in a look of emotion that washed it all away.

Her voice was gone, but the way she moved her lips, he understood immediately. Even without words.

The fairy-loving, prince-believing, compassionate, dreamy, joyful girl he had once knew back in the Kyoto forest. She was never broken. She was never hurt by Shou or went out for revenge. Kyoko was back. She was in love.

And he was too.

* * *

**A/N: I have an author's note in my profile about not writing anymore. **

**"**_**Update 6/2012: For people who know my style, likely know I obsess with research and love being IC when I write. (Otherwise why even bother with FF?) When I loved SB, it didn't feel like homework, it felt like sharing pleasurable daydreams. Now all my unfinished fics feel like a dissertation. As much as I love people reviewing my work, I can't seem to stir up the desire to finish anything. I wouldn't count it as a lost cause...but something close to. I'd feel terrible if I just half-arsed the last bits of my story...it may be better to leave it to your imaginations.  
Kyoko & Sho demons may be sent to my PM if desired.  
- Mystie**_**"**

**But I have a whole bunch of unfinished chapters in my computer. I wanted to spit shine them (more spit than shine) and post them. Even if I never finish my stories, no need for these to die along with this laptop if they're semi done.**

**Sorry that I have no beta. And a mild case of dyslexia. I tried to read the chapter backwards (It supposedly helps to catch errors) and fix any glaring mistakes.**


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